


For the time being

by Szeszely



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Footy Secret Santa, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Szeszely/pseuds/Szeszely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miro and Thomas are married and celebrating their anniversary away from the kids. The weekend sets everything for the better, but soon something happens to Miro and they have to sort out where their relationship is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For the time being

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fernando9andSergio15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fernando9andSergio15/gifts).



> Merry Christmas to you, dear Fernando9andSergio15 !  
> It was pretty hard to write angst closing to the holidays, but I tried my best and wrote both of your prompts. Have some fun reading them!

Thomas has just put the pan onto the stove when he hears Miroslav shutting the door of their car and entering the house. He seems exhausted, but all the fatigue disappears from his face when his eyes meet with Thomas’.  Miro sniffs into the air with a delighted smile.

“What’s this smell, Tommy?”

Thomas just smirks.

“Surprise.”

Miro walks over with gleaming eyes and wraps his arms around Thomas’ waist.

“You shouldn’t have made ballyhoo. It’s just a weekend without the kids.” He whispers into his husband’s ear and Thomas snickers as Miro’s small stubble tickles his cheek.

“It’s not just a weekend and you know that more clearly than me. And if I were you, I wouldn’t speak about making too much fuss.”

Miro’s hands have been caressing his sides, but now they stop.

“Why?”

Thomas turns and pecks Miro’s lips before recalling the memorable occasions.

“Well first, you remember our honeymoon? I told you that my dream was to see Brazil and even though you didn’t have a job at that time, not to mention _my_ earnings, you found out a way to get tickets and reservations there. Those were the best days of my life, but it wasn’t at all necessary to do that for me. Then there was our first anniversary, when you hid notes everywhere for me to follow the instructions, so by the end of the day, I collected a large box of small presents of all sorts. When the girls arrived…”

“Okay, okay, I see your point.”

Miro cuts in and Thomas laughs.

“Next time you call cooking dinner as making ballyhoo, think first.”

Thomas says and after another peck, he turns back to the food. Although Miro has no idea of his plan, Thomas states that their eighth anniversary just deserves something special, therefore they will drink red wine and eat expensive stuff.

 

After dinner, Miro generously offers to take the dishes which Thomas immediately accepts. At least he has some time to finish preparing his surprise, though he has worked on it the whole day. It should be ready, but when it comes to Thomas, everything takes a lot more time than it would with anyone else, even without counting the time of getting the pictures in good format. Because it happens sometimes, that first the printer paints everything green - that has nothing to do with the settings Thomas accidentally adjusted.

He hears Miro’s calling for him a few minutes later, but he lets his husband find him in the bedroom by himself.

“Oh, so here you are…” Miro’s voice dies out as he glances at the walls of their room.

Thomas might be an author and not a photographer, but he’s still an artist of a sort and he tried.

“Thomas, this…this is our life.” Thomas blushes a little as Miro’s gaze wanders back from the montage to his face.

“Yeah, exactly.” Thomas casts down his eyes before he goes on. “It was a bit hard to find good pictures from our childhood and it’s still not perfect this way, so… if you don’t like it…”

 

Miroslav cuts him off with putting a finger on his lips and shaking his head fondly.

“I love it.” Miro tugs him closer by the arms. “And I love you even more.”

They kiss – in a way they didn’t in a long period of time – it’s hungry and passionate.

When Thomas’ lips leaves Miro’s and move downwards, Miroslav’s voice hitches.

“I missed you, babe.”

Thomas smiles. He missed this as well. Since the girls arrived, they didn’t spend time on themselves, they gave it all to Hanne and Elke. Sure, they love their little daughters more than anything in the world, but they needed this break just for themselves, away from the kids. Fortunately Luan and Noah offered to look after them for the weekend.

Miro grabs Thomas’ collar and they stumble onto the bed. They nearly rip the clothes off and Thomas rolls on top as usual. The way Miro pants under him and feel of his warm body against his own has never felt so good. He always wonders why it is that Miro is the greatest boss at work and the absolute dominant in their relationship, but when they step into the bedroom, he has no power anymore and lets - more precisely wants Thomas to lead. It is a mystery that may remain unrevealed forever, but with Miroslav sucking on his neck’s pulse point, Thomas couldn’t care less.

 

* * *

 

 

Thomas sometimes likes grey autumn days even more than the sunny ones, ‘cause when it is raining unstoppably and everything is cold outside he always cuddles with Miro in front of the TV, sharing the heat. So when he wakes up the ominous morning to a monsoon out there, he even has the gall to laugh at his grumpy husband, who particularly hates rainy days.

 

His predictions are right and after breakfast they really curl up together and watch a movie that they couldn’t with the five year old twin girls around. It’s a perfect Sunday for Thomas, who eventually, after months of writer’s block, finishes the last chapter of his book by a miracle.

They eat dinner on the couch with lighted candles. Miro puts on some music, the old-fashioned way, using gramophone and a vinyl record. They dance to some swing that Thomas would rather not admit to like, then make love again in their newly decorated bedroom. When Thomas eventually drifts off to sleep, he thinks he has never felt so content in his entire life, though he does miss the little girls a bit, it will be good to get them back from the boys tomorrow.

* * *

 

On Tuesday morning Thomas curses silently, just as he steps into his so-called “office” and spots the timetable on his desk (Miro must have put it there). His mind has skipped something important. Again.

He collapses into his chair and searches for his phone under the big pile of sheets he should have sorted out a long time ago. After spilling his pens all over the floor, he finally finds it and calls his husband.

“Honey, I have a favour to ask. Would you please go back home and bring me the folder on the bedside table?”

Miroslav lets out a small chuckle.

“You forgot to bring your work again?”

“Yeah, sorry… I’m such a loser.” Thomas says, slumping back in his seat and closing his eyes with a defeated sigh.

“No, you’re not, don’t ever say that again. You’re just a little absent-minded. But I love you this way.” It’s not usual that Miro’s gentle voice gets so firm – it takes Thomas aback.

“I love you more.” He replies eventually.

“That’s not possible and don’t even try to argue with me.” Thomas manages to smile a little. “Anyway, I’ll go and get the folder for you, don’t panic.”

“Thank you, Miro.”

“Anytime, babe. See you in an hour.”

“See you and…” Miro hangs up. “…be safe.”

 

* * *

 

 

Two hours have passed and nothing. Not even a message from Miro. First, Thomas tells himself it’s because of the traffic. Yeah, Miro’s workplace is between the most packed streets of the town, it must be that. But after another forty minutes, Thomas starts to combine. Maybe he didn’t even leave his folder there; instead he lost it when he had breakfast with one of his friends. Or perhaps one of the girls took it and cut out flowers from the papers. He shivers at the thought and tries to shake it out of his mind. That cannot happen to him now, when he finally managed to finish his current work, only that ending chapter is missing. Thomas curses again. He should have listened to Miro, always-so-perfectly-planning Miro, and should have made some copies. At least one.

Another hour and dozens of unanswered calls later he wishes the little girls took the folder. What if Miro realised that Thomas really is a loser and it’s high time for him to leave Thomas behind? What if he has already found somebody else? Thomas wouldn’t survive that disaster, that’s for sure.

Four hours after the last words he exchanged with his husband and just as Thomas gets on his coat to go home, his phone starts beeping with an incoming call from an unknown number.

Usually he doesn’t get calls like this, because he’s such a paranoid, but this time… Thomas stands there for one more second, hesitating, then nearly jumps to his phone.

“Thomas Müller.”

“Tommy, I need you to come down immediately.”

“Sylwia? Why…”

“Just come down already, I’m waiting in the car. I’ll explain everything later.”

“I’m coming, but…”

Sylwia hangs up and Thomas curses as he runs down the stairs, too impatient for waiting for the elevator. He finds Miro’s ex-wife right in front of the building and he quickly makes his way to the car, getting in on the passenger side.

“What the hell happened?”

Sylwia doesn’t answer nor look at Thomas and as if that’s not worrying enough, she takes the road at full throttle.

“Sylwia, tell me what’s going on. Now.”

Thomas demands and Sylwia shoots him a cautious look.

“I need you to calm down first.”

Thomas clenches his fist.

“How the fuck am I supposed to calm down? Miro told me four freaking hours ago that he would get here my work I awfully needed in an hour. Since then, there’s nothing, no call, no message – nothing. I’ve texted him at least a million times and even tried his workplace, before you called and told me to get into this goddamn car immediately.  And now, you want me to be calm?”

Sylwia gulps.

“We’re heading to St. Margaret Hospital.”

“What? Why?” Thomas snaps back, but Sylwia doesn’t reply.

“Sylwia. Why are we going there?”

Tears appear in her eyes.

“Miro has had an accident and he is in there.”

Thomas gapes and has a sense of foreboding.

“How…” He has to swallow before continuing. “How bad is it?”

She looks him in the eye for the first time that afternoon and he doesn’t need to hear her answer to understand everything in a second.

“Pretty bad.”

The world goes black and silent for Thomas. He doesn’t know if Sylwia has said anything else or how long the drive has been, there are only two words on his mind: Miro and guilt.

He comes back from his trance when they park in front of the hospital and Thomas jumps out, sprints up the stairs and through the people in the hall straight to reception desk, not looking back or waiting up for Sylwia.

“Where’s Miroslav Klose? Which room is he in?”

“Sir, you have to wait in the line, please…”

“I’m not a waiting a fucking minute more, tell me where my husband is.” Thomas shouts just as Sylwia reaches them.

“Thomas, I know where he is, come on.” She drags him to the elevator. They go up to the second floor where Noah and Luan have been waiting and Thomas collapses into one of the chairs, covering his face with his hands.

“What happened?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.

“Papa was driving home when some drunk fools decided to dance right in the middle of the road and…” Noah’s voice breaks.

“You know what Papa is like…” Luan says. “He would rather risk his own life than any other.”

“The girls are at my brother’s” Sylwia adds after a moment.

Thomas nods and they fall into silence. He will never forgive himself, if Miro doesn’t pull through.

 

They wait for hours, after some time they lose count of it, until the door of a nearby room opens and a doctor approaches them. Thomas jumps up and runs over to him.

“How is he? Is everything going to be alright?”

“Good night Sir, I assume you’re Mr. Müller. I’m glad to inform you that Mr. Klose’s state is stable now, the burns and fractures have been treated at our best and you can go in to see him after the sedatives lose their effect and he wakes up.”

Thomas almost faints in relief, but he gathers the energy to give the physician a big hug before he disappears in the embrace of his family.

 

* * *

 

 

“Oh my God, thank you, thank you so much. I thought I would lose you.”  
Thomas mutters into Miro’s hand through a wall of tears. When he eventually looks up, Miro is staring at him with big, sad eyes and hints of a smile.

“We both know that time will come, sooner or later, inevitably.”  
Miro speaks quite clearly considering his state.

“Don’t say things like that, please.”  
Thomas murmurs and kisses his forehead.

“But it’s true.”

Thomas shakes his head, crying.

“We still have so much to see and feel and wait for…”

“But I don’t have as much time as you.”

Thomas can’t reply anymore, just buries his face in Miro’s palm.

“I feel so guilty that… I will have to leave you alone at the end.” Miroslav goes on as Thomas tries and fails to control his emotions and starts sobbing. After a few minutes he collects himself and looks straight into his husband’s eyes.

“I would rather spend a short time with you than a longer time with someone else. And though you might not see that, you’re my life. Literally, everything I have can be mine only because I have you. My home, my family the aims of my living – those all include you. Even my works are inspired by your existence. So never think that you don’t worth me anything, not for a moment. I need you in my life, just as much as you need me. The fact that it lasts for one more hour or thirty more years doesn’t matter, because we will cherish every single minute of it, like we always did.”  
Miro’s eyes are watered as well when Thomas leans in and they share a tender kiss.

As the new drugs start to work and he dozes off again, Miro asks with a worried expression.

“Will you stay?”

Thomas smiles and squeezes his husband’s hand.

“As always.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies, because it's much less meaningful than what you can suppose from the summary. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading it.


End file.
